NIGHTMARES
by Rufferto
Summary: FINISHED Nightmares. Frodo has them continuously when he moves to Bag-End, and more when he's closer to the Ring. --please R&R--This is connected to the Dreams and Rings story. It is rated R, but put as G because I'm a little confused by the new rules.
1. 01

ALL IN FRODO'S MIND  
  
DISCLAIMER : Tolkien Characters are owned by tolkien. I'm not making any money from this.  
  
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This is a story about Frodo and Gailethil It is linked to "OF DREAMS AND RINGS" but since there is violence and there may be some sex in subsequent chapters it has been put in a different story.  
  
Please Read and Review  
  
-Thank-you-  
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Disclaimer -- I don't own any Tolkien characters…but if Elijah Wood wanted to be my love slave, I wouldn't say no.  
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AUTHORS NOTE  
This series is all about Frodo's Nightmares. Its going to jump through time. In some cases…he is being influenced by the Witch King on orders from the person who is messing around with Time in Middle Earth. This story is connected to Of Dreams and Rings, but not there because this is going to be intense. There will be NO slash, however…there will be some dramatic torture scenes, and sex. These dreams are what kill Frodo's spirit. Now…just so that we are all clear. This is an Alternate Universe. My own version of The Lord of the Rings.   
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This Takes Place…A few nights after Gandalf tells Frodo he has the One Ring and must leave the Shire.  
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Gailethil could not remember going to sleep…and struggled to wake up, though for some reason…things felt slow. She finally opened her eyes when she felt a weight upon her…Focusing…she saw Frodo, he was on top of her, looking down at her. They were in a clearing in the woods, the stars above sparking. She was at first happy…then…she looked into his eyes…they were not the blue that she remembered…they were dark pits that had no pupils, and that burned with fire. "You're not Frodo…" she tried her best to struggle against her captor, and closed her eyes, trying to get through the vision and to see what was there. The terrible dream was causing her movements to slow and she couldn't seem to resist.  
  
Laughter echoed in the secluded clearing. "No. I'm not him. I'm your master. ." he held the dagger to her throat. "And I own you. You will come to me, I have been waiting far too long, and you will come to me." He laughed as she began to struggle, surprisingly strong…and drew the dagger down to the strap of her gown, cutting it. The material fell…exposing the top of one of her breasts. He pulled her hair back, lifting her up slightly so that it did fall all the way, and that was when she saw Frodo coming upon the clearing on one of his walks.   
  
Frodo had been thinking about the Shire…and Rivendell. She was there…he knew she had to be. He would finally be able to meet her…but did she love him the way he loved her? She was an elf…he was a hobbit, and his eyes filled with pain when thought about her, his heart burning with insecurity.  
  
Then he saw her…a smaller, blury shape was lying on top of her, holding a glittering dagger to her throat. He tried to focus on it…and it came into view…to his horror…it was him. What was he seeing? He froze in place…staring. He staggered…clutching his heart.  
  
Gailethil saw the real Frodo and cried out, "Leave him alone…" she glared at the being who held her to the ground. "Why are you torturing him like this?"  
  
The apparition's eyes glinted as it studied Frodo, then looked back towards the elleth. He cut again at her dress…knowing that Frodo could not move, this time…However, she struggled, and the knife dug into her skin, leaving a trail of blood, and the material fell to her waist revealing the soft contours of her delicate skin…marred by the trail of blood. He redirected the knife to her throat. "See what happens when you resist me? You cannot hide forever in Rivendell, my precious."  
  
And he leaned forward…and kissed her roughly much to Frodo's horror, and she felt something attack her senses like a thousand creatures prodding their way into her soul. He pulled away, laughing at her. "Mordor waits for you. You will come to us…." He dropped her to the ground, and she lay there, her arms curled about her chest, shivering in pain.  
  
The apparition rose to his feet and licked away the blood on his dagger while Frodo stood hunched over in agony, his own heart seemed to be burning in pain. But he looked up…and met the creature's gaze…eyes aflame with anger. "What are you…" Frodo breathed out.   
  
"Your future self." And the figure changed into a being of white light and skeletal fury…its hands spread open wide as it laughs, a crown of white upon its hollow, almost intangible face. Frodo fell backwards in terror…and it was gone.  
  
It took many deep breaths for him to drag himself to his feet and crawl over to the elleth who was sobbing. Blood still ran at her shoulder. "Gail…" he whispered. "Gailethil…its Frodo. Its me…Really me…" she cringed away, and it nearly killed him. She opened her eyes and looked at him, confusion and fear laced through them   
  
"It hurts…" she cried….The wound was already closing…and she felt...cold… her eyes gazed at him, hollow…tortured…  
  
And he did the only thing that he could do…he leaned forward and dragged her into his arms, the blood from her wound soaking his shirt. He let her head rest against his shoulder as he stroked her hair while she sobbed….nearly in hysterics. He kept her there for a little while as his hand brushed against her head tenderly and she lifted her head up to look at him in anguish.  
  
He bent his head…and took her lips with his. A soft…gentle touch…like little butterflies…as he tried desperately to reassure her…to let her know that it -was- him. The kiss…lasted it seemed for eternity…but then she cried out in pain against him, and he could feel her growing colder as she began to shake…and she faded away before his eyes…faded into darkness.  
  
Someone was shaking him awake…he groaned…trying to focus…he was back in his room at Bag-End…and there was blood on his hand…and blood on his shirt. He looked in fear and confusion about the room. And there was no one but him in the room and the howl of a terrible rainstorm pattering against the window pane.  
  
*****  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
---End Nightmare--- 


	2. In The Hands of The Witch King

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======A Dream or A Shadow?======  
*This Takes Place on the road to Rivendell, just after Weathertop.*  
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He tried to move the chains that bound his bleeding wrist to the cold dungeon wall, but his wrists were held fast…and too weak. Tears fell down his dirt-streaked cheeks as he forced his eyes open. He was in a lot of pain…and the only light came from a tiny little window far in the ceiling. Echoes of the cries of other prisoners reached his ears, but none that he could hear more clearly than the moans of pain from the figure that lay on the cold floor of his cell. He knew she was dying, and he knew the reason why. He struggled again.  
  
*Where is the ring?* A voice echoed into the cell, a clawed hand clutching the bars as the hollow eyes of his jailer. *Tell us and she lives…*  
  
The ring…the ring…he couldn't remember. He did not even remember how he had been captured. "Gailethil…" he moaned looking at the body of the one person that he loved as it was curled into a shivering, weak heap on the floor. Her dress was torn and dirty, blood stained it from the scars of the torture he'd been forced to witness. He had given it to someone…but he could not remember who. Just before he was captured.   
  
"Frodo.." she murmured his name…at least he knew she was still conscious. Through the little light that came from the window he saw…..and unbidden the scene of her torture rose to his mind.  
  
She had been placed…on a stone cold slab while he was held by two orcs. She had been turned over on her stomach, her wrists tightly clamped in irons. Then…one orc had pulled on a lever, stretching her arms and legs until she was taunt…and every time they stopped, the crack of the whip would come down on her back. He shuddered, remembering her screams. After each crack…they would turn the wheel again…and she would be stretched in pain.  
  
His own face was flushed…and he knew he was running a high fever…he forced his gaze towards the cell gate where the White King was watching them. "Never…" he swore, licking blood from the side of his lip that was still swelling from an earlier blow.  
  
"So you truly want her to die?" the cell-door opened as the terrible White King and two orcs entered. One of the orcs dragged Gailethil to her feet. Her eyes were tightly closed, her disheveled hair hanging limp, and her dress barely clinging to her form. Angry welts from where the whip had struck on the back of her arms were clear and visible against the once unmarred…beautiful skin. Silken's hair was pulled back so that Frodo could see her face, still untouched. At that moment, her eyes opened and through a haze of pain she tried to focus…seeing Frodo.  
  
"You won't kill her." Frodo said quietly, staring in anguish, desperately trying to convey how much he loved her with his eyes. "I know…."  
  
"Don't tell them…" she begged Frodo just before closing her eyes weakly again. "Don't give up…don't try to save me…the Ring is more important…don't give in…"  
  
The White King sneered, "No…we won't kill her…but she -will- suffer." he traced a nail down Frodo's bare neck…and then his chest. "As long as she lives…you will eventually break…and we will have the Ring.."  
  
"Please…please leave her here." Frodo tried to beg, but he knew it was useless.   
  
And the White King laughed as the orcs dragged her away.  
  
"No!…." he cried out, unable to bear the thought of her in pain anymore, he didn't have the strength…he couldn't go on… "Gailethil…Gailethil…I love you….Stop…I'll tell you…I'll give you the Ring…I'll bring it here…Please…I'll tell you everything…" he struggled violently, the chains cutting into his wrists. "No!!!!! Don't take her away…Gailethil!" and his anguish fell to deaf ears…as he was alone now in the dark cell…alone…as he ever had been in his life. "Don't take her away…" he begged helplessly, an icy chill wracking his little body.  
  
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And he cried when he awoke that day, sobbing as the fever still clung to him unrelenting. Aragorn did not let him rest…and they moved on as he sat on bill…moving in and out of consciousness. He didn't dare sleep…or dream…for he could not tell anymore what was a dream and what were shadows. He felt a warm hand against his as he looked down…there she was walking with him…but was she a dream or a shadow…his eyes closed in pain. No one else could see her, he would get to Rivendell…and they would tell him she did not exist…Even if she was real…he was her doom…they would use her against him…no matter how she comforted him now….he finally understood what he was up against…and he felt his resolve slipping away as terror clung to his heart for he knew that he would never be able to stand against them…if somehow they got hold of her.  
  
Gailethil's hand was warm in his, so filled with life and energy…his guardian…his angel…how could he not fight…"Stay with us, Frodo…" she begged him gently. "You're almost there.."  
  
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	3. A Face in the Water

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Chapter 3--- A Face in the Water ---  
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It was late at night and he was walking through the forest outside of Hobbiton, his hands in his pockets. It was cold…and yet he wasn't wearing a jacket and he was not sure why. There was a moon, but clouds were obscuring the stars and he was tired. He was 34, he had not left the shire yet…though he was longing to go to Rivendell. His heart was torn between the two places. On the one hand…the Shire was his home, and on the other…she was his heart. He had to find her. But Bilbo had said she was in Rivendell, and that she lived. He had told Frodo that Lord Elrond had forbidden her to leave the Valley, and that many years ago, something had occurred that cast much of her memory to the side. If he waited any longer…he might end up being too old to leave the Shire…too old to see her. But if she did not remember him…how would he be able to deal with that? Maybe it was better that he stayed here. He hadn't seen her in a very long time. More than seven years, and the last time she had seemed…distant and though he had told her that he loved her, she had not responded. He sat down by a tree…near a small pond and the wind was blowing a silent chill. Maybe it was time to let go. To let her go.  
  
He sighed heavily, pulling out the pendant and gazing at her lovely face. Then…suddenly there was another chill in the air and it slipped from his fingers, dropping into the murky pond…Frodo let out a cry and fell to his knees desperately sticking his hands into the dark water feeling around for it. "No…no no no." he whimpered….and then he froze, the tears still falling down his cheeks.   
  
For the dark waters had cleared a little…and he saw her, within….beckoning him. She was so beautiful…so angelic…so filled with light and warmth that all he could do was stare at her. Then he felt something brush against his arms…fingers…hers. Her hands circled around his forearms and for a moment…he was in heaven…and then…plummeted cruely into hell for whatever held him yanked him down into the water. At first he struggled, but when he opened his eyes he saw her there, bathed in darkness. And then she kissed him, holding him fast in the water, draining every last breathe while he finally began to fight for his life.  
  
He struggled helplessly against her strength, fear building in his heart. He now knew it wasn't her, whatever it was…was not here. There was a terrible sound…an evil laugh…and an eye…breathed in flame….rushing forward to consume them both. He screamed into the murky water, but no one heard his call. He cried out again, just as everything began to spin around him, he thought he might have heard his mother's voice but when his eyes flew open and he jolted upright in bed with a silent cry that gave forth to a resounding scream the only one that was with him was Sam who was startled out of his wits and rushed to his master's side, steadying him.  
  
Frodo frantically searched his pockets and heaved a sigh of relief. The pendant was still there and he fell back on the pillows, crying as Sam held him in his arms, gently soothing. "There now, Mr. Frodo, it was only a dream. Is there anything that I can get for you?" Frodo did not respond, he kept crying, the desperate little sobs wracking his small body until finally…he drifted back to dreamless sleep. 


	4. Icy Hands in the Dark

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Chapter 4 -- Icy Hands in the Dark (Takes place on Caradhras, after Weathertop, after Frodo meets Gailethil in Rivendell.)  
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He was cold…very very cold. Aragorn had done his best to keep him warm…and they had found a small cave for shelter that night on Caradhras. He shivered by the fire, while everyone else was asleep. He couldn't sleep. The ring was wearing heavy against his neck and he was finding it hard to sleep these days without terrible nightmares. He kept thinking about how he wished he had never left Rivendell…and the safety of her arms. She had nursed him back to health after Weathertop, and he could still remember the look on her face when he had told her he was going to Mordor. It had been difficult to explain and almost impossible to leave her. He sighed, closing his eyes painfully. They had tried to get him to eat a little…but he just wasn't hungry. For a while…he lay there in the cold…shivering…  
  
That was when he heard her voice. His eyes flew open. Was it the wind…? Something… called …"Frodo…" it sounded like her. He glanced around. Legolas had his back turned and was working on one of his arrows. Generally the elf watched the group while they slept. He strained his ears…trying to listen once again. "Frodo….Come to me…" She was outside the cave! He struggled a little with the blankets, trying not to make any nose. It was snowing outside…and very cold…but he didn't notice for some reason. It was her, he was sure of it.  
  
He glanced over at the elf, who had not noticed…not expecting Frodo to be getting up, at any rate. He inched his way past the others…tentative...following her call. "I'm coming." he whispered under his breath. "Please don't go…" he stumbled at the edge of the cave…bracing himself against a rock as his fingers touched the ice. He peered around desperately…"Gail…" he didn't care…didn't care about the cold…or the ice…or the pain in his stomach and around his neck. All he wanted was to see her…to be back in bed…to not be on this mountain…to be anywhere but here…  
  
He felt hands around his neck suddenly…and almost thought it was her…they were warm…but then suddenly turned cold as death when he whirled around hoping to see her..his face alight. What he saw were ghostly clawlike hands and the deathly pale face of the evil wizard Saruman. He cried out in terror and nearly fell backwards…and was shoved…off the cliff….he screamed….but the quick wit of Legolas saved him…clutching his hand as the hobbit dangled.  
  
Effortlessly, the elf drew the shivering hobbit back off the side of the cliff and into his arms. "Frodo…what on earth were you doing?" Legolas carried the half-frozen Ringbearer back into the cave to the startled Aragorn who had jumped up at the scream.   
  
"What was he doing?" Aragorn felt Frodo's forehead…hot…. The hobbit whimpered miserably.  
  
"I think he might jumped…it looked that way…either that…or was pushed…" Legolas said grimly. 


	5. Things Not Done

Author's Note : These nightmares are not meant to have any kind of rhyme or reason. They are simply nightmares and I will be jumping around in time. They go with my fic OF DREAMS AND RINGS.  
  
Nightmare notes : Frodo has been spending a lot of time convincing himself that he's not good enough for Gailethil. He had stayed in the Shire for the most part because he knew he was a hobbit and she was an elf. He couldn't bear the idea of rejection if he went to Rivendell and met her…and lost her like he had lost everyone else. He was jealous of Glorfindel who he thinks Gailethil is in love with and would rather be with, but she's tied to Frodo through dreams and visions. Every time he convinced himself to leave the Shire, he stalled…afraid of meeting her, afraid that he won't live up to her expectations, and afraid that she only said she loves him because she came to him when he is ill and they are drawn together because of the Ring. When Gandalf last visited, he spoke of that and it hurt him terribly. He spoke of her connection to the One Ring, and he wondered…he wondered a lot whether it was the Ring she loved…and not him. It held him back, the indecision and the insecurities that have built up inside of him since he lost his parents. It was difficult to decide what he was really jealous of. The Ring? Glorfindel? The fact that she was an elf…and he was afraid..   
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5 -- Things not done (This takes place when Frodo is 49)  
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Frodo ran his fingers through his hair tiredly…he'd been walking for some time and his chest ached. There was nothing he'd rather do that sit down and rest. He's forehead was wet, and his curls were sticking there. He was tired and miserable, but there was somewhere he needed to get to, yet he could not remember where. There was a heavy weight around his neck and a warning in his heart that he could not stop…he had to go on.  
  
Well…it was for her.  
  
He shivered, drawing his cloak around him. If he got rid of it…he would be free…and she would look at him…and he would not have to wonder if she was looking at the Ring. She would be looking at him…and him alone, like she had when he was younger. Before the bracelet….before the ring…She tried…she really did…his breathe caught in his throat as an image of her face rose to his mind. Her beautiful eyes gazing at him as though he was the most precious thing in the world.   
  
The years swam by in his mind, it had been so long for him, yet…she never changed. Not for 16 years did she age at all, and it never seemed as long for her as it was for him.  
  
Where was he going? The land was thick with mist, and he felt like he was old…very old…and weak…He lifted his hand to his neck and the Ring was gone…he was on his way to her after all, he was sure. But there was a sense of loss still that he couldn't describe.  
  
He was now walking through the halls of Rivendell…towards her room…desperately trying to get there. He looked into a mirror and his eyebrows rose at what he saw there. Frodo was old…older than Bilbo…old and frail from adventures he could not remember but held deep in his heart. His thick curls once shiny and black were gray and matted, and the only thing that was remotely recognizable was his blue eyes…they were still as intense as they ever were. He closed them and continued on, she was waiting for him…and he wanted to tell her that he succeeded…he had finally defeated the Ring…given it up…  
  
He opened the door to her room, and stood in absolute shock. His eyes glistened over as he stared at the bed …familiar…yet foreign…His heart quickened, and he leant against the doorframe for support. He had known this day was going to come…he was old…why would she wait for him? He was going to die…he was not an elf. He was of no use to her, anyway. But all he really wanted was to be picked up and held in her warm arms, cradled and rocked like when he was younger. He yearned for that like one would desire their most favorite things after so many years without. But now…now it was impossible…he'd no longer feel her arms around him, nor would she ever look at him the way he wanted her to. He cringed, tears collected in his eyes and they fell.  
  
He was not tall and beautiful, with long blonde hair and sinewy limbs like the elf who made love to her right now. They were locked in a kiss, a fire that burned around them. Glorfindel and Gailethil and he could only watch while the elf's hands trailed in places that Frodo would never have dared. Soft…beautiful places. Once he remembered leaning against, and thinking about. It had always brought a blush to his cheeks and he never dared hope…nor venture in that direction. But here…someone had taken the steps he never could. Was that ever to truly be his fate?  
  
For to Frodo…she was an angel…his angel. The light in his dark world…the one who had held him up when all he wanted to do was lie down and die. To touch her in any other way…more than a kiss, to not respect her…to venture what his heart desired would have been to lower her to his level. It was not that he never wanted to, nor dreamed about it, it was that…the timing had never been right for them. For these long years he wrestled with himself…finding all the reasons he should never ask her. Even…even if she did love Glorfindel…he…he could live with it. He just wanted her to be with him…to cuddle him and to tell him everything was going to be alright. That would be enough…that would be enough.  
  
And she responded to the elf in ways she had never responded to him. There was a sick feeling in his stomach, a grave anxiety that churned and threatened to spill over. He quietly closed the door and wandered blindly into the hallway, finding a corner to curl up in….and sob wretchedly as though his heart was broken.  
  
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He looked up after a while, and blinked miserably…realizing that he was back in Bag End, and in a nightshirt. He must have been sleepwalking. He drew a ragged breath and wiped his eyes with his sleeve, shivering…It was winter…possibly his last winter in Bag end. He needed to leave the shire soon. To heed Gandalf. He took the pendant out of his pocket and stared at her face. He knew that it was only a nightmare, one of many he'd been having recently. What could he do? He knew he was jealous of her friendship with Glorfindel, but he also knew she would not betray him like that. He didn't understand why his mind was going in such places, nor what was going on in his head. He loved her, he knew that….and had to hang on to that. And he knew that she loved him. There was no way he could let that go, not now…perhaps not until the end of his days no matter what happened. He would face her…next year….next year would be easier… 


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